


Rewind

by listeaf (listea)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Use, M/M, i just made myself sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:10:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listea/pseuds/listeaf
Summary: Jongdae just wants to let go. Baekhyun makes it hard.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Перемотка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10177349) by [wllzft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wllzft/pseuds/wllzft)



> So this started off as something written for Shiratori, but then it kinda just grew and took over so I couldn't get it in on time. But thanks to aleena_mokoia for letting me use the words she ended with! This turned out a lot sadder than I had had planned on though. Also, this is pretty much unbetaed so please excuse me for any dumb mistakes ;;

 

 

10.  
For the first time in a very long time, Jongdae lets himself feel vulnerable, and someone else protective. He is 29 going on 30, poised to acknowledge the full weight of the world and tired of waiting and hoping and chasing the elusive ferocity of first loves. Outside, the sun creeps above the horizon, streaks of rosy dawn peeking through the blinds to set their bottles aglow with an eerie light. Chanyeol’s arm tightens around his shoulders and Jongdae leans into the touch with a sharp twist of his lips before pulling away. The alarm goes off, intermittent beeps unnoticed, and Jongdae raises his drink.

“To love,” he murmurs.

 

9.  
The local newspaper runs a small piece on the death of ex-teen idol and former resident Byun Baekhyun, tucked between the Sunday crossword and an exposé of idol Oh Sehun’s latest movie scandal. “Tragic drug overdose,” the author writes in rambling print that is as vapid as it is apathetic, “a sure warning for the unruly new age teenagers working to uproot civilized society.” Jongdae assumes that he’s supposed to feel sorrow or regret, but when it’s something that he’s been expecting for the last decade, he can only find acceptance. It's like he'd been waiting at the end of the track for an inevitable arrival of impact, as if the passage of time prematurely wore down what was supposed to shock until there was nothing left to mourn.

But when he sets down the newspaper to pick up his coffee, rests his cheek in the palm of his hand, a strange feeling carves out a niche in his chest. It flutters to the tune of the rickety ticking clock hung above his kitchen counter and sends a pulse of an ineffable feeling that makes his throat clog. And within seconds, it bubbles, rising, searing, fading until it’s gone.

Only after, when he grabs the keys and heads out to work, does he realize what the feeling was. Relief.

(The grief hits later, when he’s sitting alone at his desk, stacks of papers piled around him and dilapidated fan clacking in the corner. It’s not the mourning of a lost love he realizes, but of an era passed. And that makes it infinitely sadder.)

 

8.  
Minseok is a nice guy. They meet after Jongdae accidently crashes a wedding in the fit of a drunken dare exactly two years after Jongdae makes a new start in Busan. Minseok hyung is quiet, well-spoken and prone to overly excited outbursts over soccer (but it’s a flaw that Jongdae would have been willing to overlook). In another universe, he could have been everything Jongdae has ever wanted and to be honest, Jongdae is jealous of any versions of himself who did marry Minseok.

They stay together for another one years before Jongdae begins to drift. There’s a part of Jongdae that wishes desperately to like Minseok enough, to settle for the small things that make him think that he can sufficiently love Minseok for the rest of his life. It’s a pity, he thinks, that he loves Minseok enough to let him leave, but not enough to make himself stay.

At the end of the second year, he calls Minseok up one last time to their favorite bar and in the excruciating minutes before Minseok’s arrival, Jongdae practices his breakup lines one more time and tries to muster enough attachment to make himself remain. Minseok walks through the door with an easy smile, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and greets Jongdae with a quick peck on the cheek. For a moment, looking into Minseok's easy smile and breathing his subtle cologne, Jongdae thinks he’s in love. But then the precarious string snaps and he is flung back to the beginning. No matter how hard he tries, it’s impossible to recapture the momentous flash of love he had experienced years ago -- the fleeting thrill continuously hovers just out of reach no matter how hard he stretches, forever lingering at the fringes of his memory. Even after Baekhyun had left, vestiges of his existence still remain, wrapping around Jongdae’s every waking memory and entrenching themselves in the nooks of his heart.

The waitress comes and takes their orders while Minseok looks at Jongdae curiously, fingers tapping at the table in an incessant rhythm. For the briefest pause, it’s completely and silent as Jongdae stares into Minseok’s eyes and Minseok stares right back. And briefly, he wonders if Minseok is feeling the same way he does because there’s something that hints at comprehension in the soft crinkle of Minseok’s eyes, that suggest at an intimate story that had taken place before Jongdae even appeared as a blip in Minseok’s life. They stare at him, uncolored and unruffled, and when Jongdae blinks, Minseok mirrors him with the slow lowering of his lashes and a tilt of his head. It’s like he’s trying to decipher something behind Jongdae’s frozen smile. Then the silence goes on a beat too long and Jongdae stumbles.

“We need to break up,” he blurts out, cringing internally at the ragged insensitivity of his declaration. Minseok’s face is unreadable, but the rhythm of his tapping fingers stutters ever so slightly. Jongdae takes a slight breath to pull back on his nerves before he continues.

“Yeah. Okay,” Minseok cuts in.

“It’s not you, it’s me I prom - wait what?” Minseok’s smile is fond and knowing even if his eyebrows are furrowed and his shoulders are hunched. Even now, Jongdae wants to reach over and press his fingers into the rough planes of Minseok’s hands, intertwine their fingers and sew himself back into the easy routine of amity. It’s too late now, though.

“Of course we can still be friends - I don’t think football nights would ever be the same if you weren’t there. Luhan would honestly try kick me out if this stopped you from coming - although you might have to bring a couple packs of beer each week before I forgive you and let you in,” Minseok continues. “However, I do want back the sweater I lent you.”

Something in Jongdae’s chest tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes, things aren’t meant to work out,” Minseok says shrugging, leaning back with an exhale of his breath, “And I’m too old now to be trying fit together things that aren’t meant to be fit together.” He smiles wistfully. “I think you’re reaching that point too.”

“Are you calling me old? I'm not even 28, hyung” Jongdae tries to joke. It falls flat.

Minseok just purses his lips and hesitates. “Not old then. Experienced.”

 

7.  
"I'm getting married," Chanyeol says over the phone. It's the first time Chanyeol's been this excited in a while and so Jongdae lets him ramble into the phone about the proposal. Chanyeol's fiancée, Dara, is a girl half his size, with a smile that can even outshine Chanyeol's, and makes the best apple pie Jongdae's ever tasted. They'd been dating for four years now -- at least according to all the texts Chanyeol's sent him -- and Jongdae's never seen Chanyeol so over his head in anything. They met at a work function, of all things, and had hit it off at first sight, keeping steady over the course of their relationship. Privately, Jongdae thinks that Dara is either a saint or a madwoman to deal with Chanyeol for so long.

"I'll send you the actual details later," Dara laughs, snatching the phone from Chanyeol. "Chanyeol would never get it done otherwise." Distantly, Jongdae can hear Chanyeol whining, so he laughs too. Even after all the years, Chanyeol has still maintained his inner child that emerges whenever he feels flustered.

"I would," Chanyeol protests, voice suddenly closer. From the shuffle on the other end of the phone and Dara's bubbling laughter, Jongdae deduces that Chanyeol had snatched the phone back. "What do you say? Will you come?"

"Obviously."

"Thanks man. I think I'd go crazy otherwise, there's just so much to do," Chanyeol says, smile evident in his voice. "I have to ask you something though - "

"Alright, I accept. I'll be your best man," Jongdae says, listening with amusement as Chanyeol splutters.

"How'd you know? I didn't even ask you yet!"

"Yes, but you were thinking it, weren't you?" He asks, smug. "Besides, who else would spill all your secrets in the speech besides me?"

"Baekhyun, but he can't make it. He has a concert or something. He felt really bad too, says he'll try to send a good enough video message to make up for it."

A bitter taste settles in Jongdae's mouth. He hadn't believed it when Baekhyun told him he was in training to become an idol. He hadn't believed it either when Baekhyun called, almost incoherent with excitement, to tell him that he was finally debuting. Now, he can't imagine Baekhyun being anything other than a celebrity. And there's a part of him that's still twinges at the thought that Chanyeol had maintained contact with Baekhyun when Jongdae had given up so many year ago.

He's spent enough time pouring over Baekhyun's pictures and interviews in a desperate attempt to stay connected after their daily phone calls dwindled to weekly ones to monthly ones until they dropped contact all together. He remembers when Baekhyun's favorite food had changed from kimchi to bubble tea, when he had listed Yunho of senior boy group TVXQ as his role model even though Jongdae knows that that place has always been reserved for his brother, Baekbeom. Little by little, details of idol Byun Baekhyun replaced Jongdae's best friend until Jongdae wasn't sure which one he knew anymore.

"I can't believe you're going to get married first," he says instead, changing the subject.

None of them had ever thought Chanyeol would get hitched first out of all of them. Back in high school, it had always been Chanyeol and his guitar, even after he hit his growth spurt and girls started noticing him. For the longest time it'd been the three of them: him, Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Then it had dwindled down to him and Chanyeol. And now it'd finally dawned on Jongdae that he would have to be letting go of Chanyeol as well. It's an odd feeling, to be set free adrift on his own without the ropes he's been holding onto since he was born.

Chanyeol doesn't fall for it however. "You're going to have to figure out what your deal with him sometime," he chides, exasperated yet gentle.

Jongdae shakes his head, then catches himself when he realizes that Chanyeol can't see him. "I have. I just don't want to talk about it."

"I talked to him, you know."

"And what did he say?"

"Not any more than what you did. I think he misses us though. The celebrity life is harsh and apparently there's some pretty fucked up shit going on."

"Yeah, well he's the one who chose to stay in it."

"Jongdae," Chanyeol murmurs. "Don't you think you're being a little too harsh on him."

"Whatever. I'm good now anyways," Jongdae attempts to chuckle. It comes out fake, but Chanyeol doesn't call him out on it.

There's a sigh, but thankfully Chanyeol lets up. "Anyways," he says, "Dara wants the yellow flowers, but don't you think the red ones are better for a summer wedding? I know the yellow ones would match her dress, but like red is so classic." And he lets Jongdae ramble about the delicacies of flower décor because whatever faults Chanyeol may possess, he's always had Jongdae's back.

Later, when it's just Chanyeol on the phone with Jongdae, staying up way into the late night, Chanyeol confesses, "I don't know how I've ever managed to live without her. It's like she makes me whole, fills something inside of me that I didn't even know was empty. I'd rather take a thousand shitty days with her over a good one without her."

"You've definitely gotten cheesier," Jongdae snorts, phone in his hand, mouse in the other as he tries to make travel arrangements down to the wedding. The connection is filled with the quiet sound of noise as Chanyeol falls silent. For a minute, Jongdae thinks that he'd hung up, but then Chanyeol speaks again.

"It’s difficult to explain without actually feeling it," he says, hesitantly. "It's so wonderful, I don't think I could ever describe it. You'll understand it too when you find someone to love too."

Jongdae already understands, the dizzying descent into the irrational, of vowing to tether yourself to one person for the rest of eternity. It's not something one forgets, Jongdae thinks. "Yeah, I get it," he replies, tongue thick all of a sudden.

"Do you?"

Jongdae thinks again, counts the years. "Yeah, I do."

 

6.  
In the middle of August, Jongdae receives a nondescript envelope bundled with the rest of his mail. There's no name or address written on it, but the moment he opens the envelope, he knows who it's from. The message attached to the letter, scrawled hastily on a post it note, contains only two words, but they send a dull ache into Jongdae's heart.

_I'm sorry._

He throws the letter in the trash without opening it.

Three weeks later, Jongdae walks by two girls rambling excitedly under the shelter of a bus stop.

"Did you hear? He's gay, apparently."

"Ugh," the other one says. "Why are all the good ones gay?"

"I dunno. I'm still, like, in love with him though. Have you seen his hands? They are fucking beautiful. I don't care that he's gay. I'd still try to fuck him if I ever met him."

Jongdae normally wouldn't have bothered, but when he passes them, he glimpses a trashy tabloid transferred from one girl to the other. The flashy bubble letters frame a dimly lit picture of Baekhyun plastered over some guy leaving the club. He's obviously drunk, hands slipping down the other guy's pants and other guy's hand wrapped around his waist possessively. Swallowing hard, Jongdae moves on.

The image loops through his mind the entire day.

 

5.  
Life without Baekhyun is easy. Jongdae moves to Busan, finds a job, dates a girl, breaks up with her three months after and all in all waltzes through life with a quiet vigor. At night, he dreams of a boy with brilliant eyes - who smiles like he’s untouchable - and forgets again in the morning. It should be comforting.

(It’s not)

 

4.  
“So what happened between you and Baekhyun?” Chanyeol slurs, sprawled on the single chair that exists on the apartment balcony and clutching the last bottle of beer in Jongdae’s apartment. The stars hang above, sprawling forth in a dizzying blanket of twinkling lights, and Jongdae slumps against the railing trying desperately not to pitch headfirst into the streets below. He shrugs, swaying as the motion sends the world spinning around his head, and eventually gives up to flop on the cold concrete floor.

“Shit happens.” He attempts to wave his hands in a whatever gesture, only to send one of them smacking into Chanyeol’s knee. Above, Chanyeol’s head looms into Jongdae’s field of vision, bobbing almost comically as he struggles to formulate another question.

“Is this - Have you - Did you guys have something or whatever?”

"Nope."

"Did you tel-"

"Nope."

Chanyeol frowns and for a moment, he looks surprisingly coherent considering how much alcohol he had downed earlier trying to impress the cute girl at the bar. "For someone who's so good with investment and stocks and stuff, you sure are shitty with taking risks."

Jongdae just rolls over and groans, pressing his cheek to the rough surface in an attempt to stave off an oncoming headache. “Chanyeol, I love you and all, but has anyone ever told you to shut up?”

Chanyeol considers the question, opens his mouth to reply before something seems to go through his head and then shuts it close again. He shrugs. “Whatever.” A period of silence. Then, “He’s going back to Seoul, you know? God knows why he even came back in the first place.”

Something underneath the alcohol muddled haze registers in Jongdae’s brain and reawakens an ache in his chest, but he’s too strung out to care. Instead, he lethargically traces a name over and over and over into the concrete ground until his finger is rubbed raw.

“You think it could have worked? If I just tried to try?” he asks after a while, forcing down a yawn. There’s no answer and Jongdae frowns.

“Chanyeol?” He tugs at Chanyeol’s pant leg, but a soft snore sounds from above instead.

 

3.  
(The thing is, Jongdae's spent so long loving Baekhyun that even now he doesn't know how to stop.)

 

2.  
Five years after Baekhyun leaves to the shining lights of Seoul, he comes back, demanding to meet up and talk, to “recollect the gang.” Chanyeol opts out, alluding vaguely to a meeting too important to miss and instead reschedules to meet up with Baekhyun separately. After a couple back and forth texts, planning around Jongdae's university class schedule, they eventually settle upon a small coffee shop, tucked in between a run-down apartment building and a shiny new bank that blasts enough cold air to store whatever’s left in Jongdae’s meager fridge. For a couple of minutes, Jongdae pauses outside the shop, staring at himself reflected in the light of the glass and wonders if he should have chosen the black jacket over his currently worn blue one. Screw it, he thinks and pulls open the door.

Baekhyun is sitting in the corner, at a table of two, tapping into his phone with an adorably scrunched nose. He looks just as Jongdae remembers him. And suddenly Jongdae is sixteen again, caught up in the ecstatic excitement of just existing, spending long nights roaming the streets with Chanyeol and Baekhyun in the summer heat.

Once they stole Chanyeol’s sister’s car and took it down to the beach, crashing it on the way back and became grounded in the months following that. But Jongdae remembers lounging in the leather seats, fingers brushing over the stitches of the car paneling, each bump in the road reminding him of the exhilaration of finally finding freedom, and looking over at Baekhyun besides him and feeling as if something had dropped in his gut. The sun had begun to set, illuminating Baekhyun’s face, half covered by his windswept hair, and he looked unreal, as if a movie screen lay between him and Jongdae. And Jongdae had inched his fingers towards Baekhyun’s until he could feel the sticky warmth of Baekhyun’s palm, until they were separated by only a thin pane of air. Baekhyun had turned in that moment, Jongdae recalls, smile spreading across his face, and Jongdae’s heart had beat faster, pounded harder until his lips struggled to form the words that began to take root in his thoughts. Then Chanyeol ran into a tree, breaking the quietude of the moment and rendering what Jongdae had wanted to say uncommunicable forever, lost in the recess of missed opportunities.

This Baekhyun in front of him conjures the same impression of ephemerality, invokes the same sentiment of tenderness, and for a moment, Jongdae is afraid to move in fear of shattering the spell. Baekhyun looks up, Jongdae stops breathing, but this time, he doesn’t feel like he’s falling.

“Hey,” Baekhyun says and his lips part into a smile.

Jongdae makes his way through the crowd and sits down, distinctly aware of the awkward undercurrent of tension that permeates the air between them. “It’s been a while,” he laughs, fiddling with his napkin nervously. There's a pause and Jongdae shifts uncomfortably. Baekhyun sets his phone down, almost cautiously, and then leans forward, lips still upturned mischievously.

“So I heard Chanyeol broke his arm trying to suck his own dick.”

Jongdae blinks, caught off guard. Then Baekhyun begins to snicker; it’s infectious and Jongdae can’t help but to join in. The same recognizable inflections settle into Baekhyun’s words and the warmth in his tone is so familiar that Jongdae instantly falls back into his self from the past, five years ago before Baekhyun ever left.

"At least you weren't the one that had to deal with him after. I had to baby him everywhere afterwards. He wanted me to write his essay for him afterwards," he complains.

"Gross -- did you?"

Jongdae smirks. "Yeah and he got a C on it."

"You're horrible," Baekhyun says laughing. "I missed you, you know?" His fingers toy with the bracelet on his wrist, twisting and turning in jerky, quick motions. "None of my friends have anything like your ugly face in Seoul."

Jongdae winces. It's a sharp reminder of how little his life intersects with Baekhyun's anymore, and even after five years, it's difficult to imagine that Baekhyun has developed his own group of friends in the star-studded entertainment industry of Seoul without Jongdae. For the longest time, it had been him, Baekhyun and Chanyeol, but now that time was flying by, it seemed as if they were both moving on without him. "How is it?" he asks, half hoping Baekhyun would say something along the lines of I hate it, I want to come home and most of all I wish you were there.

Instead Baekhyun smiles, softer this time, different from the diamond lined edge of his laugh. He looks younger this way, more breakable too, different from Seoul's newest craze, teen idol Byun Baekhyun, and Jongdae instinctively reaches for him before pulling back again. "I love it," he says, eyes fond. "It's exactly like how we imagined when we were little -- remember how we both wanted to become singers?"

"I was like ten," Jongdae snorts.

"Please," Baekhyun scoffs, "you still went nuts on that karaoke machine back in high school. I wasn't the one belting Hyuna at the top of his lungs."

"Yeah, well that's because you were more of a Girls Generation type."

"Point is, it's great. I sing. I get paid. I party. And all the girls love me."

Jongdae knows.

"Why are you back then?" he asks.

Baekhyun leans back in his chair, biting slightly at the edge of his nails. He stares at Jongdae contemplatively before rocking forwards again and speaks this time in a slightly hushed voice. "It's just a break for now. But you know that label company I just signed onto?"

Jongdae felt it prudent that he didn’t bring up the fact that he had religiously followed all of Baekhyun's actions, that he remembered that particular piece of news, dangled in between a large photo spread of Baekhyun posing in black and white and a trashy interview detailing the events of Baekhyun's newest blowout party. So he nods.

"What if I told you.." Baekhyun starts mysteriously, eyes sly and fingers tapping at the tablecloth, "..that they were looking for more talent to recruit? And I might have mentioned your name."

Jongdae freezes. "You're kidding, right?" He blurts.

Baekhyun looks up into Jongdae's eyes, face pale and lips curling into a Cheshire's grin. "I swear on my life," he intones, placing one hand on his chest. "When have I ever lied to you about something? Or about anything important at least?" He amends hastily after seeing the look on Jongdae's face.

"Oh my god," Jongdae says intelligently, and for a brief moment, he lets his mind wander to all of the possibilities, more ambitious than anything else he'd ever dreamed of. He could stand on stage, with Baekhyun. Buy a house for his parents with the crushing weight of student loans looming over his head. Sing to the tune of a thousand teenage hearts around nation.

Except - then he remembers Kim Jongin, his seat partner who always fell asleep in class and repaid Jongdae for his notes with surprise puppy visits, Kim Junmyeon, his Economics professor who secretly pulled Jongdae out at the end of class one day to tell him that in all his ten years teaching, he had never seen a student rise so fast, and most of all, his parents at home who still called every week to make sure that he slept right, ate well like the good son he was.

"I can't," he says abruptly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry." There's still too much he has here, too much to do, too much to stay for to drop everything and chase his long faded childhood aspirations. In the wake of Baekhyun's departure, he's created his own structure, carved his own space into the world. And even with the lure of Baekhyun's offer, he loathes to give any of that up. If Baekhyun had come three years earlier, maybe he would have accepted, but in the time Baekhyun's been gone, Jongdae thinks that he himself has changed too.

Baekhyun's grin fades and he stares in shock. "Jongdae, this is everything you've been dreaming of since - like forever. You're never gonna get this opportunity again."

"I know," Jongdae says. "I'm sorry."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I can't."

A change comes over Baekhyun's countenance and he lurches forward, grabbing Jongdae's wrist, shoulders tensed. "You don't understand. This could be the opportunity you've been waiting for your entire life." Jongdae tries to jerk his hand away, but Baekhyun's hand tightens its grip, his fingernails digging into Jongdae's skin.

Panicked, Jongdae jerks back, knocking over his cup in the process. The iced water spills, seeping into Jongdae's sleeve with an unsettling chill, but he doesn't register the cold, can't process anything but the marks lining Baekhyun's arm, revealed when Jongdae had wrenched his arm out of Baekhyun's grasp.

"Fuck, you didn't," he whispers, brain shutting down.

Baekhyun gapes for a minute, uncomprehending before his eyes follow Jongdae's gaze to his arm. A noise half-crossed between a gasp and a sob escapes out of his mouth before he yanks his hand back, shaking the sleeve over his arm to cover everything. It's too late though, the image of swollen needle marks surrounded by blossoming bruises, like twisted flowers crisscrossing the pale skin of Baekhyun's forearm, is already burned into Jongdae's mind.

"It's nothing," Baekhyun says defensively, almost scared. But looking closer, Jongdae can see proof of whatever drug Baekhyun had been injecting, corrupting and destroying. Baekhyun squeezes his eyes shut, taking in a shallow breath, and all Jongdae can see are the dark eye circles, carefully covered by concealer, the overly defined collarbones that jut out whenever Baekhyun takes in a breath. "Everyone does it there," Baekhyun grits out.

Jongdae ignores him and thrusts his hand out to grasp Baekhyun's hand again before Baekhyun has a chance to react. "Does anyone else know about this?" He demands, flipping it so that the marks are revealed again.

Baekhyun laughs, but it's hoarse and hollow. "Who wouldn't know? My friends? Where else would I get it from? Do you think I'm the only one who does this?"

"Don't you know how much this will fucking destroy you?" Something hot pricks at the corners of Jongdae's eyes and he wipes it away angrily.

"I don't need you telling me what to do," Baekhyun retorts, eyes narrowed. "I should have never come here. I knew you wouldn't have agreed."

"If you don't care, I'm telling your manager," Jongdae says, pulling away. His head throbs and it feels like something is pressing at his throat, making the room too small of a sudden. He pushes the chair back and stands up. Vaguely, he registers that the other customers are staring at them curiously, but he's too tired to care. "If you won't care for yourself, then I'll find someone else who will."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me," Jongdae bites out, staring at Baekhyun, defiant. For a moment, he's caught in a staring match, weathering out the storm raging in Baekhyun's eyes.

Then, Baekhyun's chin jerks up. "Wait," he says, hand curling over Jongdae's wrist. The touch of his fingers is weirdly intimate and Jongdae stops, unsure what to do. "Don't you want to know the other reason I'm here?"

Caught in the trance of Baekhyun's stare, Jongdae waits.

"Forget that for a minute. I didn't come just to tell you about the record label," Baekhyun begins. His fingers reach up to press lightly against Jongdae's cheek, almost timidly, and he looks just as weary as Jongdae is. "There were things I had to resolve here too."

Wordless, Jongdae nods and Baekhyun takes it as encouragement to ramble on.

"You know, I saw you looking at me back then. Didn't you ever stop and think that it might have been mutual? I kept waiting for you to say something -- there was this one time where we were on the way back from the beach. And I was so sure that you were finally going to speak up, confess -- until Chanyeol wrecked the car. But even then, you never said anything after."

Jongdae blinks, caught off guard, and falls back into the chair. There's something squeezing at his chest and he wipes at his eyes even though he's sure he's not crying. An overwhelming urge to just scream rises in his chest. Instead he just shakes his head, jaw clenched tightly. He's done with this mess. "I don't understand. Why didn't you ever say anything? Why wait for me?"

Baekhyun lifts his shoulders almost imperceptibly. "By the time I was going to tell you, I got a call back from my audition. Before I knew it, I was heading to Seoul and what would have been the point then?"

"What's the point now?"

"We can still do this. There's so much to do in Seoul, you would love it. Don't you see what we could do together? I still want to do this with you." His hand clenches at Jongdae's shoulder before falling once again. Desperation tinges his tone and for the first time, he looks raw, disheveled, like he had tumbled down the metaphorical version of the hill outside Jongdae's dorm, each jagged edge chipping away until it reached the live nerve underneath. "Please." The word escapes Baekhyun's mouth almost like a prayer.

The feeling of hope blossoms in Jongdae's chest, multiplying and tugging to the surface the thoughts Jongdae had buried ever since Baekhyun left. There's a part of him that wants badly to believe what Baekhyun is saying, to throw himself into the tempestuous current Baekhyun proffers and burnout in a blaze of light. Baekhyun's presence had always entailed a sense of unbridled peril, tearing into Jongdae's ordered life, and this is no different. He had spent the first years of his life at Baekhyun's side and he would be lying if he said he didn't want to spend the last ones with Baekhyun as well.

Having regained his composure and as if he can sense Jongdae cracking, Baekhyun leans in again, close enough so that Jongdae can see every single one of his eyelashes, fluttering down before opening up again. " I thought about you every day when I was in away," he murmurs, "Once I got high a club bathroom and fucked a guy there. I didn't know who he was or why he was there, but he was exactly like you. The same smile, the same dumb voice. And for a moment I could believe it was you."

It's supposed to be sultry and enticing, but the reminder washes over Jongdae like ice water. He wants Baekhyun, but not like this. "I'm not going," he says, pulling away.

Disappointment darkens Baekhyun's face and his lips twist into a frown. "Why not?" He sounds genuinely frustrated, as if he can't understand what Jongdae would choose over him. "You like me, I like you. What else is there?"

And Jongdae finally understands the final piece of Baekhyun. 21 years living next to the boy sitting across from him and only now does he fit the missing piece to Baekhyun. Baekhyun who tore his way through the world, cobbling together life's greatest and worst in his own patchwork of life, who stole Jongdae's heart when they were just five and flying across the playground, unable to crash because together they soared. Baekhyun who Jongdae had admired since they were three because who else would run into a fucking chicken coop just to see how eggs were made. He could never live like Baekhyun, unrestrained, unceasing and mercurial. That, he had always known. But now he thinks he understands. How Baekhyun could give up everything he had to move to Seoul and dominate the entertainment industry, both seedy and glamorous. Baekhyun's immunity didn't stem from his courage, has never stemmed from his courage, but instead took root from his carelessness, indifferent to the string of consequences left behind.

"I liked you," Jongdae corrects instead. The lie tastes empty at the tip of his tongue. In actuality, he will never be able to stop loving Baekhyun, will never be able to tear out the persisting thread Baekhyun had unconsciously sewn into his heart. He's wiser now though, more pragmatic. He will never stop loving Baekhyun, but he can't bear to throw everything away for Baekhyun either.

Baekhyun reels back as if struck, lip biting down so hard that Jongdae can see a bead of blood. Jongdae is prepared for the tirades, the appeals, the tears, but instead Baekhyun just stares, unmoving. The silence stretches on for an instance to long and Jongdae scrambles to finish it, eyes squeezing tight for a moment, as if ripping a bandage off a wound that had been festering for years.

"Did you think I would wait for you? It's been five years. Grow up."

"Fuck you," Baekhyun hisses finally. His head turns away, as if he's crying, but Baekhyun never cries. Jongdae feels his throat swelling up, but he refuses to quit.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll still be here. But I'm not going with you," Jongdae continues, almost gentle, as if speaking to a small child, "I won't call your manager, I won't try to stop you, I won't tell anyone because God knows what will happen to your career, but you need to get yourself together."

"Jongdae," Baekhyun finally says, almost pleads.

Taking a breath in, Jongdae drives the last stake home, and this time, he's completely honest. "It's too bad though. Because I loved you. I really did."

 

1.  
Baekhyun's the best at telling stories out of the three of them. Chanyeol stops too much to look at the pictures and Jongdae doesn't want to read out loud anyways. It's easier just to listen. This way, he can curl up next to Chanyeol on Baekhyun's grandmother's couch, wrap the small blanket around the three of them and stare transfixed at Baekhyun's crinkly smile when he turns the page. This time, it's a fairytale and Jongdae leans over Baekhyun's shoulder to read along, even as Baekhyun reads out loud, child's lisp lending a charming lilt to the story. He snuggles down into the warmth of the blanket, Baekhyun engrossed with the book on one side and Chanyeol listening intently to the other.

"But the little mermaid loved the prince too much to kill him and return to the ocean. And so she threw herself into the foam cresting on the waves, doomed to 300 years of doing good deeds," Baekhyun reads, head resting on Jongdae's shoulder and pout tugging his cheeks down. "Oh. I thought she gave up her fins to marry him and lived happily ever after."

"Why would she ever give up everything just to be with the land guy? He's not even pretty." Jongdae interrupts, stifling a yawn. Chanyeol's mom is pretty, Baekhyun is pretty, but the guy in the picture doesn't even have eyelashes.

Chanyeol jabs him in the ribs. "Shhh," he whispers, eyes wide. "Baekhyunnie's just about to finish the book."

But Baekhyun just pauses, thinking hard for a second before turning to Jongdae. "Well I dunno," he says, "I guess she just loved him so much." He laughs, loud and sweet. "I mean, I would if I ever loved anyone that much."

 _I think I would for you_ , Jongdae thinks as Baekhyun begins reading again. But he doesn't say it out loud because at this point he's not sure what he wants to be with Baekhyun. All he knows is that he loves Chanyeol and Baekhyun both very much, but it's different with Baekhyun and it's almost scary.

Later, when both Baekhyun and Chanyeol have both fallen asleep, Jongdae dusts off the blanket and readjusts it so that it covers all three of them. Chanyeol's hand keeps falling out though, so Jongdae leans over and fixes it so Chanyeol won't get too cold when he sleeps. On the other side, Baekhyun's head lolls awkwardly, so Jongdae corrects that too. The sun is setting, hanging at the edge of the horizon, filling the room with a warm, dreamlike glow and Jongdae can feel his eyes drooping as well.

And just before he goes to sleep, he stops to intertwine his fingers with Baekhyun's, warmth bubbling in his chest.

 

0.

"I love you," Jongdae whispers into Baekhyun's ear at the break of dawn, love bursting out of his chest. Baekhyun's still asleep, awash with the sunlight bursting into the room, and all of a sudden Jongdae feels very bold. "I love you. I promise. I really do."

 

 


End file.
